


Like Magic

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 22:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: When given the chance to decide Jowan's fate by Arl Eamon, Daylan Amell takes the third option and uses the Right of Conscription.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How did a fic about a pairing I really never focused on spiral so far out of control?!

At Eamon’s words, Daylan Amell felt his heart catch in his chest. 

“I ask for your opinion of Jowan’s fate.”

Eamon couldn’t have known, of course, that Jowan was Daylan’s oldest friend, had been there for him since he’d arrived at the Circle. Of the hours spent talking in whispers after the templars had demanded lights out. Of the risk Daylan had taken in setting out to destroy Jowan’s phylactery. 

Of the heartbreak that Daylan had felt when Jowan had introduced him to Lily, speaking of his plans to escape the Tower and build a life with her.

There was nothing about any of that Eamon could have known in asking how to properly decide the fate of Jowan. He could see the look in Isolde’s eyes that said she still blamed Jowan, causing a burst of anger in Daylan’s gut, as none of this would have happened if she hadn’t sought a free mage to teach her son. But she would throw all of the blame on Jowan’s shoulders, bearing none herself. 

Either way, Eamon wanted Daylan’s opinion. And... And Daylan was a Grey Warden.

The thought triggered a cascade of other thoughts – After Jowan had fled, when Greagoir and Irving were arguing of what to do with him, Duncan had approached and used the Right of Conscription. It was, Duncan had explain on the way to Ostagar, a way for the Wardens to grow their numbers in the event of a Blight, when they needed numbers. And this was a Blight. The Wardens traditionally liked to get their recruits willingly from whatever authority might stand in their way, rather than risk rubbing the wrong nobles the wrong way too many times. But it had been a long time since there had been Wardens in Ferelden. And, more importantly, Eamon needed the Wardens just as much as they needed him. With the Blight, they’d need more Wardens – two Wardens in the whole of Ferelden were not a capable army.

“I would say, Arl, that despite everything that has happened, Jowan was a catalyst more than a cause. When given the option to flee from this place or do something about the threat of the undead in this castle, he chose to help, to remain here, willingly submitting himself to whatever punishment might come, rather than attempt to escape. Without him, we would never have known about the ritual that allowed us to free your son from the demon’s clutches, and it was only chance that enabled us to go to the Circle and return with the mages who performed it. If you believe your options are only to punish him with execution, or send him to the Circle to be made Tranquil, I would sooner use the Wardens’ Right of Conscription, and bring Jowan into the Grey Wardens.”

The reaction of the others in the room was... mixed. Eamon and Teagan were obviously taken aback. Isolde let out a horrified and angry ‘WHAT?!’ that made Daylan want to smile, though he just barely managed to resist that urge. He heard Wynne let out a hiss of indrawn breath, clearly having thoughts on the subject, but letting him make this decision. 

It was Alistair and Morrigan who had comments directed for him first, whispering in his ear, rather than for the ears of the Arl and his family. 

“Are you serious about this? He’s a blood mage!”

“All he has done thus far, though powerful, has been an accident. We are more likely to suffer the consequences of his next one than the darkspawn.”

But Daylan didn’t pay attention to them. He simply kept his stare locked on Eamon. He knew who was ultimately responsible for whether or not this would work, and he knew he could show nothing but certainty that he knew what he was doing, or Eamon would likely use that hesitation to drive a wedge in between Daylan and his friend.

It took a moment for Eamon to collect himself. “Warden, are you sure that’s wise? This man is a blood mage. And, from what the First Enchanter said, he has destroyed his phylactery, preventing the Chantry from locating him in the event he runs.”

“I’m aware, my lord,” Daylan said, remembering well his journey into the bowels of the Circle with Jowan for that particular purpose. “But he’s also willingly turned himself over for punishment. Have you heard of a blood mage doing that?”

“I... have not, no.” The Arl sounded like he recognized that Daylan had no inclination to budge on this matter, that his mind was set.

“Neither have I, and I lived in the Circle. Every tale of blood mages ended in the deaths of many, mage, templar, and innocent included.” Granted, that was easily simply because the templars would never have acknowledged any other kind of story – a blood mage getting away from them? They’d be seen as powerless against blood magic, even if it only happened once. But no need to say as much to the Arl. “If Jowan’s desire for making amends is honest, he can make it up within the ranks of the Grey Wardens.” He wasn’t sure that he’d managed to convince the Arl, so he added the last of his cards to his play. “And, may I remind you, Arl Eamon, that the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, the Grey Wardens who are this nation’s best defense against the Blight, are BOTH in this room?” The Wardens in Ferelden numbered comfortably at two. If the Wardens were the only ones who could stop the Blight, surely they’d need as many as possible.

It clearly did not sit well with any of the nobility. However, the Right of Conscription was legal, and the Wardens clearly had the numerical need – they’d already made it clear that the Blight was truly such, was a greater threat than even Loghain. With only two Wardens... To stand against the horde, it was likely that more Wardens would be necessary, not just ‘a nice idea.’ Realistically, their doubts had to fall back to the realities of their situation. 

Shaking his head, Eamon finally gave in. “I have my misgivings of this, Warden. However, I cannot deny your right to conscript him. I would ask, however, that when you return to this castle, he not be among your party at the time. I believe... tensions would still be high.”

Daylan could see the wisdom of that demand, and he wasn’t going to push his luck. “Understood, my lord.” With the matter seemingly settled, Teagan motioned for a guard to take them into the dungeons, shaking his head in the process.

As they headed to the dungeons, the others began to voice their concerns. “A blood mage. You would invite a blood mage to travel with us?” Wynne whispered in a horrified aside. “I realize you and Jowan were friends, but surely-”

“ARE friends, Wynne. Present tense. Whatever else, our friendship has not become dependent on him following the Chantry line,” Daylan corrected. “And I haven’t forgotten what he’s done. But I’m also fully aware that he turned to blood magic because the alternative for him was being made Tranquil. If he’s given the chance, given the CHOICE, he won’t use blood magic. And he doesn’t deserve the fate the templars are going to inflict on him.” 

Wynne parsed that for a moment. She still didn’t approve, but Daylan wasn’t looking for her approval. She sighed, giving voice to her displeasure, but unable to do more than that. “It seems you’ve set your course. I only hope you haven’t condemned us all with it.”

“It is a risk. I mean even if he means well... He did set all of this in motion,” Alistair pointed out. 

“At swordpoint. Or do you really think that Loghain gave Jowan a choice in the matter? Flames, if I wanted to, I could easily say Isolde was responsible for this. She wanted to subvert the Chantry and keep Connor. Not that I don’t understand her reasoning, but she didn’t think twice about an apostate miraculously showing up on her doorstep right when she needed one most, and look what happened. Her son contacted a demon, and that demon unleashed a nightmare upon this town. That wasn’t Jowan’s responsibility. And unlike other people here, unlike the Arlessa, he chose to accept the responsibility for his choices by staying here, by trying to help fix this mess.” Daylan wanted to make it clear through his reactions that he had no intention whatsoever of just leaving Jowan to this fate. This was no debate.

“It is not wrong to want to give someone a second chance,” came Leliana’s voice. “Is that not the basis of Sten or Zevran joining us? They have committed terrible deeds, but joining with us is their chance to atone. If Jowan wishes to make up for his actions, we should be willing to give him this chance.” 

Daylan had always appreciated Leliana’s attitude and approach to redemption, that all deserved the chance. Seeing how her words struck the others, it seemed that they all recognized and were willing to accept that, whatever their reasons to argue against Jowan joining their group, there was no way that they could come up with an argument that would sway him from his decision. As Leliana had said, if they could accept Sten and Zevran, was Jowan really so different?

They entered the dungeon, the guards standing outside Jowan’s cell. Jowan himself looked to Daylan as they entered.

“Are you here to take me back to the Circle? That is what Arl Eamon decided to do with me, right?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t send you back to Greagoir’s ‘tender’ mercies if it would end the Blight itself,” Daylan said. He gave his friend a smile. “You’re being released into our custody. I used the Grey Warden Right of Conscription to get you free.”

“You... What?” Jowan was, understandably, shocked at the idea. “You’re... making me a Grey Warden?”

“It’s the only way for you not to be made Tranquil, Jowan. I wasn’t going to let that happen.” Daylan felt the full admission, letting him know just how he felt, dance on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it before it could emerge. Regardless of how much he wanted to let Jowan know the truth, admitting such here... There were other, better places for such a thing. And if the guards overheard it, they might pass it along to any of the nobles who disapproved, potentially placing Eamon in the position of revoking his boon. Under the circumstances, Daylan simply didn’t trust any of the nobility in Redcliffe to abide by the arrangement if they could find some method to subvert it, regardless of how honorable Alistair claimed they were.

Jowan struggled with the concept for a moment – he’d resigned himself to death or Tranquility from the moment he’d suggested the blood ritual to Teagan and Isolde, probably since Isolde had thrown him in the dungeon. It had been months since then, so he’d spent months coming to terms with that. And now Daylan was offering him a chance to be free of the fear of Tranquility.

“I... Surely the Chantry-”

Daylan shook his head. “Wardens supersede the Chantry’s authority on this.” Duncan had said as much after Jowan’s escape, that Daylan was being conscripted into the Wardens whether Greagoir and Irving liked it or not (though Duncan had put it in more polite language). This was freedom from the Circle, though the Wardens had their own drawbacks, as Alistair had mentioned a few times. “The Right of Conscription is legal and binding. The Circle can’t have you.”

It took a moment to truly dawn on him. “I... I don’t know what to say. I...” 

Alistair cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but the Arl and Arlessa didn’t seem very happy about the use of the Right of Conscription. It might be better if we continued this discussion... elsewhere.”

That was probably a good point.

***

Daylan and the others, Jowan included, established a camp a short ways away from Redcliffe. It was the best option, considering Jowan’s responsibility for what had happened to the Arl, even with his miraculous recovery – even if it was only known among those at the castle who Jowan was, it was unlikely he could have anonymity among the people of Redcliffe. Even one servant who’d gone back to work there after the dead were banished and returned to the village would have known of the blood mage who’d poisoned the Arl, would have spread that knowledge to everyone in the village. Even a wildly inaccurate description would still spread, and all they’d need to do would be to say that the blood mage responsible now travelled with the Grey Wardens for villagers looking for vengeance to do the math and determine who they’d blame.

Still, Daylan was happy beyond belief. Although he’d felt heartbroken at Jowan’s announcement of his intent to run away with Lily, he’d never stopped caring for Jowan. More than once, his thoughts had drifted to wondering where he’d run to after fleeing the tower. When he’d found Jowan in Redcliffe’s prisons... He’d tried desperately to convince him to run, to flee before the Arl could punish him. 

And now he was free of that sword over his head. At least, he was on a technicality – Daylan may have invoked the Right of Conscription, but he didn’t know how to perform the Joining. Which was, he supposed, as dangerous as the Harrowing could have been, he realized, remembering Daveth’s violent death when the thief drank from the chalice at Ostagar. 

Still, it gave him a chance, which was more than Eamon or the Circle would have offered him. Daylan may not be able to make Jowan into a Grey Warden at the moment, but it would likely have to happen at some point. If he never underwent the Joining, the templars might come after him. Flames, they might all the same, but at least the Joining would offer him protection.

The others in the party didn’t seem to know what to make of him. Alistair still clearly resented his involvement in poisoning the Arl and didn’t understand why Daylan had spared him, or thought that he should be accepted into the Wardens. Wynne was displeased at gaining the assistance of a blood mage, but seemed to recognize that Daylan would not be swayed from bringing Jowan with them. Morrigan appeared to view Jowan as a fool, though more for how out of hand events at Redcliffe had gotten due to his involvement, rather than because of blood magic. Sten was hard to read, though when it was said that Jowan was joining them due to Daylan invoking the Right of Conscription with the intent of making him a Grey Warden, he seemed willing to accept it, regardless of how he felt about it. With the Qunari, Daylan would take that as a victory. Shale was resigned to the introduction of another softy squishy fleshy thing to the group. Only Leliana and Zevran seemed to be willing to offer Jowan outright welcome, Leliana because she was willing to offer a second chance to seemingly just about anyone if their feelings of repentance were genuine, while Zevran, having been an Antivan Crow, an assassin, recognized that he had no room to judge. 

Daylan was just happy that he’d managed to save his friend. 

As they settled in for the evening, Daylan and Jowan were finally able to sit and speak.

“I still don’t believe you rescued me from the Arl,” Jowan said, the amazement plain in his voice. “I was certain that he would execute me, o-or send me back to the Circle to be made Tranquil!”

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I helped you destroy your phylactery, the last thing I’d do would be to let the Circle do that.”

Still, Jowan seemed in awe of the reality of freedom, as if he still couldn’t quite believe he’d walked out of Redcliffe Castle without chains. “Even... even after what I did? Blood magic, poisoning the arl... All of it? I... I really can’t believe you’d do all this for me.”

“You’re my friend, Jowan. I don’t regret helping you, any of the times. Not just when we destroyed your phylactery, but even when you put that snake in Lorian’s bedsheets.”

“Lorian... I haven’t thought of him in ages.” There was a hint of... something in his gaze, when he continued. “I don’t think that he made it back from his Harrowing.”

Daylan winced, having forgotten that the young elven mage had ascended the tower for his Harrowing some months before his own. To the best of his knowledge, that had been the last any apprentice had seen of him. 

“I promise you, Jowan. That won’t happen to you.”

The sober mood between them lingered, however. “Daylan, I... I don’t know if I can be a Grey Warden. I wanted to give up my magic. You know that I only resorted to blood magic because I was scared of... To face the darkspawn... I couldn’t face the undead that stormed the castle!”

“You’re strong enough to stand with us, Jowan. You can do this. I have faith in you.”

Jowan smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “How can you? I mean... I heard Lilly, I heard her turn on me. We... we were in love, but when I used blood magic... She couldn’t look at me anymore. She... said she didn’t...” The smile fell entirely, and he looked to Daylan, with such a pain in his eyes that Daylan’s heart hurt to see it. “Greagoir sent her to the Aeonar, didn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so,” Daylan nodded. “I’m sorry, Jowan.” He’d been jealous of Lilly when Jowan had announced that he intended to run away with her, but he wouldn’t have wished the Aeonar on even Irving and Greagoir, despite how much he’d grown to hate the old bastards.

That seemed to make Jowan deflate, realizing that Lilly was now forever beyond his grasp, and likely suffering horribly because of him. “Maker... I did that to her. Because she loved me, believed in me...” The relief he’d felt at being released from Redcliffe’s prison seemed to give way as the weight of Lilly’s fate seemed to hit him. 

Daylan sat next to him as he broke and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

Matters in Orzammar were complicated enough, it allowed both mages to put their minds to other topics. Despite her reluctance, Daylan convinced Wynne to tutor Jowan in healing spells, ways to help those around him without drawing upon blood magic. Not that she’d admit it, but she even seemed to become more fond of the younger mage, seeming to believe he meant it when he said that he had no interest in ever using blood magic again. She seemed to accept him at his word, though that probably had something to do with how they were all certain that he’d pay the cost if he proved her wrong, and she’d do it before Daylan could even attempt to offer an alternative.

Even Alistair began to express less distrust for the other mage, though that seemed more due to the fact that Morrigan seemed to view Jowan’s magical blunders with greater disdain than Alistair’s more general ones. Whatever the reason, Daylan was appreciative of the lessening of tension among his companions. 

As the party set up camp the night after leaving Orzammar, Daylan approached Jowan. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m... not sure. I still... I still wish there were something I could do for Lilly.”

Daylan had been thinking about that himself, knowing that there should be something that they could do for her. She didn’t deserve to be locked away in the Aeonar. She wasn’t even a maleifcar in the first place, she shouldn’t have been sent there of all places. 

“Perhaps, if as Eamon suggests, we install Alistair as the new king, he could intercede on her behalf.” The crown and the Chantry weren’t the same, of course, but if anyone could countermand the orders of the templar Knight Commander against the Grand Cleric, it would be a king.

Jowan cast a look over to Alistair, who was currently drinking from a bowl of soup that Leliana had made, their dinner for the night. At the moment, he wasn’t exactly the picture of royalty. Still, Daylan had a point in bringing up that Alistair would be poised to offer some sort of help. “I suppose it’s possible.” Jowan sighed, shaking his head. “I know she’d never want to see me again, but... I just wish there were something I could do for her.”

It still hurt Daylan’s heart to hear the longing in Jowan’s voice. He knew it was selfish, he just couldn’t help it. “We’ll do what we can, Jowan,” Daylan promised. 

“Thank you.” Jowan smiled at him, even though it was obvious that he didn’t completely feel like smiling. “You’ve been such a good friend, even though I haven’t deserved it. I’ve... made you give up so much, and I keep causing you pain and difficulty. Why... What have I done for you to give me such loyalty?”

“I care about you, Jowan. I...” Daylan hesitated, feeling the words on the tip of his tongue. He knew that it would change things irrevocably if he did speak them, but there was still the need to unburden this weight on his shoulders. He’d carried it so long... 

“I love you, Jowan.”

For a moment, it was as if time had frozen. It seemed almost as if the whole world had frozen, waiting on how Jowan would respond to the revelation. He’d never spoken those words aloud, but now... They were out there. And, as much as he feared what would come next, it did feel good to have them out.

“Wh... what?”

Well, that was inspiring...

“I’ve been in love with you, Jowan. For... a while now. I didn’t realize it until... until you told me about Lilly, how you wanted a future with her, and I realized that... that I wanted us to have a future together. I was... I told myself that I wouldn’t stand in your way, when you asked me to help you destroy your phylactery, flee the Circle. But... It still hurt, knowing that I was letting you go.” Daylan looked to Jowan, trying to see how he was taking this revelation. 

There was a protracted silence between them. Daylan got a sinking feeling as the silence stretched out.

Then, Jowan rose, going for his tent. 

Daylan let him go without a word.

***

The return to Redcliffe was... awkward. For obvious reasons, the least of which being Eamon and Teagan having asked that Jowan not return to the castle, Daylan left his friend at the camp. 

Leliana approached him as they made their way to the castle. “You are looking glum,” she said. It sounded like she was fishing for gossip. “You are the dashing hero, surely you should be proud of the accomplishment you’ve managed, the armies you’ve gathered.” She paused for a moment. “Or is it something more personal that is bothering you?”

Daylan sighed – Leliana meant well, and, truthfully, he needed to talk. And he couldn’t exactly discuss these things with Jowan. “It’s Jowan.”

“I had a feeling.” She smiled at him, a gentle, supportive gesture. “I have seen how you look at him. I could tell that you cared for him, as more than a friend.” She was observant, seemingly in ways that the others around them were not, if she had picked up on that while the others had seemed to remain blissfully unaware.

Of course, it was a subject that was not wholly up to Daylan, now was it? “It’s not that simple, though. When he ran from the Circle... He left behind the woman he loved. And she was sent to the Aeonar because of it. So whatever I want from him... It wouldn’t be possible now. If ever.”

That seemed to give her pause, but, because apparently Leliana ran on optimism, hope, cheerfulness, and rainbows and puppies, she was able to get her smile back into place. “I can imagine that would make things more difficult.” It sounded wobbly, as if it were the best she could come up with, which it probably was. “Did you know this woman?”

“Barely. A Chantry sister, who’d chosen to forsake her vows. To be with him. She loved him. And he loved her. Still does, though I’m sure that she wouldn’t see him if he could get close to her. Because of his blood magic.” Daylan shook his head. “It’s never going to be anything more than it is now.”

Leliana took that in, considering it. It clearly was more than she’d been expecting. Still, she would not be deterred – she had found someone she cared for in need, she would do what she could to help them. “Perhaps,” she said, sounding contemplative. 

Before he could ask her to explain herself further, they had reached the castle gates, and a soldier approached them, wanting to take them to see Arl Eamon.

***

It wasn’t long before Eamon decided that they would ride for Denerim. The mages and Sten were shunned by most of the soldiers in the caravan, even without the Redcliffe soldiers recognizing Jowan for ‘the mage responsible’ for the rampaging dead. The fact that Jowan was considered a Warden now (even if Daylan couldn’t perform the Joining ceremony and make it official) only stayed the hands of soldiers from falling to their blades. It didn’t stop the glares – every soldier had lost someone in the undead horde’s assault on Redcliffe. 

Daylan saw Leliana approach Jowan multiple times as they made the trip. He wondered what she was trying to do – smooth things over, get an idea of what his opinion was, or even just act as an intermediary. Whatever her goal, Daylan had doubt.

The tension seemed to just lay thick between them. Daylan kept glancing back towards Jowan. Jowan did not return the looks. 

As the Denerim gates came into view, Alistair moved close to Daylan. “So... Leliana made it sound as if you had... feelings towards Jowan.”

“If she’s told you, I’m surprised Zevran hasn’t approached me about how I might ‘woo’ him into my bedroll,” Daylan muttered. His words were sharp, though he knew that he was simply lashing out, Alistair being the victim of his misplaced anger. Still, he felt a twinge of remorse for targeting Alistair, having been fully aware of how he’d been mistreated by people he’d considered himself close to over the years. “I’m sorry, that was-”

“Understandable. You’re... I’ve seen how tense things have seemed between the two of you lately. And I know that you used the Right of Conscription because of your friendship with him...” Still a point of contention, apparently, but it didn’t seem like Alistair was here to make an issue of that choice – it was done and over with, the final verdict made. So Daylan wouldn’t criticize it. 

“He deserves the opportunity to try to redeem himself,” Daylan said, a gentle reminder that this was still a line not to cross.

And Alistair nodded – he’d accepted it. “I know. He’s tried so far, he did fine in Orzammar. I’m not condemning him for that. I just... I wanted to know how things were between the two of you, considering the... tense nature that seems to be there.”

“If Leliana mentioned it to you, then surely she also added that he’d planned to run away with a woman. And when I told him how I felt, he walked away from me.” Daylan hated that he sounded like a self-pitying fool, but, really, that was what he was at this point. He’d put his heart on the line and been rebuffed. He WAS a self-pitying fool. 

Alistair walked in silence beside him for a long moment. “I know I’m not exactly an advocate for him after... after Redcliffe.” Daylan considered the fact that he wasn’t speaking of Redcliffe as being something that Jowan bore direct personal responsibility as a sign of his own tension towards the mage lessening. “Still, since he’s joined us, he’s helped. And he hasn’t resorted to blood magic, so...” So Alistair was willing to extend him that trust. Coming from someone who’d nearly become a templar, that was an accomplishment. 

“I always knew that Jowan just needed to be given a chance. Greagoir, Irving... They just saw him as a potential threat. They saw him not being confident, and assumed that he’d be easier prey for a demon. Because he’s a mage, and so what else would he do with himself if he couldn’t be a powerful one?” Daylan shook his head. “I wonder why they bothered planning to give him the brand. Why they didn’t just schedule him for a Harrowing and kill him there. Irving talked like him talking Greagoir into making Jowan Tranquil was a mercy, because he’d still be alive, as if that’s any kind of existence...” Daylan shook his hands, realizing that his anger at the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander had caused his mana to surge, summoning a small amount of lightning.

Alistair noticed it as well. He seemed shocked at the description of the way of things at the Circle, though, to his credit, he didn’t question it – even accepting that Uldred and his forces had only made things worse at the tower, Alistair had seen enough in their time together to know that those in a certain situation had a different view than those outside. To those without magic, the Circle was a place where mages could be among their own, put their skills to better, noble purpose. But to those within... It was anything from a prison to a slow death sentence.

Daylan had wondered, more than once, if, had he remained at the Circle, instead of taken by Duncan to Ostagar, he would have joined Uldred’s rebellion. He didn’t like considering it. 

“I don’t know what it’s like, being put in that position.” Alistair’s statement was soft, indicating that he was truly considering the life of mages in the Circle, not as an abstraction but as Daylan and Jowan’s lived experiences. He looked from Daylan back to Jowan, still walking separately from Daylan. “It sounds like you were willing to give up everything to make him happy.”

“I was. I risked the same punishment he did for destroying his phylactery. Just being there, handling any phylactery... They probably wouldn’t have bothered with the brand, just... cut us down then and there.” Daylan took a shuddering breath, trying to get his emotions back under control. “Even after he ran, I stood there, defiant of the rules that Irving and Greagoir were so adamant about me flaunting. They wouldn’t have cared either way, but I... I had to say to their faces what utter bastards I found the both of them. Because... they knew. They were setting Jowan up, they knew that he’d fallen for a Chantry sister, and they were waiting for him to make a move.”

He’d stopped, causing Alistair to do so as well. Even if it held them up, Daylan had had these thoughts and feelings bottled up for the better part of a year. They demanded being aired now. “They would sooner lay a trap for someone than give them a chance to try and prove them wrong. They set up a trap and made him walk into it. They didn’t care a damn thing about mages, just following their blighted rules about the proper way we should live in our prison. I should have left Irving to die at Uldred’s hands, but Greagoir would have killed every mage left in the tower if he hadn’t heard from him...” 

Alistair opened his mouth to say something, though what could have calmed Daylan, he truly didn’t know. He didn’t get the chance, however, as Daylan barreled on. “And what they did to Lilly... Yes, I was jealous that she would get to live her days with Jowan. I would have given anything to trade that life with her, but... I wanted him to be happy. And now, instead, she’s locked away in the Aeonar because they believe she was bewitched by blood magic, and she just... just let them take her! She never deserved that! She should...” Daylan suddenly found himself out of breath, uncertain what more to say that could be coherent – his anger had made reason and sense flee, and right now, all that he had left was his fury, unable to direct it at anyone around him, knowing they weren’t responsible. Even Leliana, the former Chantry sister, and Wynne, the Senior Enchanter, were simply symbols, having been too far removed from the places these decisions were made.

Daylan stood there, panting, trying to pull himself back under control. While the Redcliffe soldiers had pressed forward, paying no mind to the Wardens and their companions, those who’d hesitated, listening to Daylan vent, stared, unsure of what to say in response to that.

As his breathing steadied, as he realized that he’d exploded in front of everyone, Daylan awkwardly cleared his throat. “We... we really should move on.”

“Right...” Alistair drawled. He cast a glance back to Leliana, standing by Jowan. The two of them looked to the other mage, wondering what he might have to add to this.

Jowan said nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Arl Eamon’s Denerim estate was large enough to allow everyone their own room, a far cry from having to set up tents for everyone. Eamon insisted that Alistair and Daylan have rooms close to him, saying that they were the most at risk of all the companions, Alistair being their contender for the throne, Daylan for being the Warden responsible for everything coming together.

Daylan also had his suspicions about Eamon preferring the idea that Jowan sleep with the rats in the cellar if he’d been able to get away with it. Not that it wasn’t understandable, but the Arl seemed to view Jowan’s actions as entirely removed from Loghain, without concern for the coercion that he’d employed to make Jowan do what he’d planned. 

Still, Jowan was a guest of Eamon’s hospitality. That gave him the ability to knock on the door to the room that Daylan had been given in the middle of the night. 

It came as a surprise to Daylan, who, upon opening the door, stared in surprise at his visitor.

“May I come in?” Jowan asked softly, as if afraid that speaking too loud would draw the attention of Eamon. Daylan moved to the side to admit Jowan. He didn’t know what his friend was going to say, and a part of him was truly scared that Jowan would say he wanted to never see him again – he’d walked away when Daylan had first revealed how he felt, that hadn’t exactly been a good sign that he felt the same.

Now that Jowan had gotten through the door, though, he now seemed unsure as to what he should do next. He stood uncertain in the middle of the room. His gaze studiously avoided falling on Daylan.

The silence began to stretch out, and finally, Daylan broke it. “Jowan... I wish it had been different.”

“So do I,” Jowan answered. Daylan winced, clearly thinking about what that difference might be. Before he could formulate too many ideas, Jowan continued. “I didn’t avoid you because of what you said. How you feel. I... I think some part of me was always... curious, thought that... maybe there could be... something. But... Irving would never have let it happen. You remember Karl, right?”

It took a moment, but he remembered. Karl was an older mage, a few years older than the other apprentices in their class. And a few years ago, Irving had spoken about transferring him to the Kirkwall Circle. “He was close to someone, wasn’t he?” Daylan hadn’t been close to either of the mages they were talking about, but he remembered Irving talking about how Kirkwall had needed some new talent, and that, for “reasons,” he felt that Karl was fitting. 

“They were more than close. And the mage who he was with... That was the runner. The one who kept escaping. But while he was with Karl? No escape attempts.”

The runner. Everyone just called him Anders, since he’d said he’d come from the Anderfels. And he’d tried escaping from the Circle more times than anyone else. Even though the templars kept bringing him back, he still made an escape. Last Daylan had heard, the templars were looking for him again. Daylan couldn’t help but wonder what had kept Greagoir from demanding he get the brand.

Still, Daylan understood what Jowan was getting at. “Irving would never have allowed it, I know.” He took a breath, still uncertain. “So... If you were curious, why did you... avoid talking to me after...?”

“Because I... At first it was surprise, not knowing what to say. And then...” He looked away, knowing what he was going to admit was painful. “I thought that you might have... let them take Lilly away. Because of jealousy. And I knew almost immediately how wrong that was, but... Letting myself even think that of you, after everything you’ve done – my phylactery, my freedom... On top of having become a blood mage... After all of that, I didn’t think that I deserved you.”

That hit Daylan hard – he’d been afraid that Jowan had withdrawn because he couldn’t accept that his oldest friend felt more than friendship for him, but this... Jowan blamed himself. It was him beating himself up again. Thinking that he could do nothing right. 

Daylan did the only thing he could think of in response. He crossed the distance between them and met his friend in a kiss. 

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the gentle crackle of the fireplace, both mages simply wrapped up in the feeling of their lips pressed against one another. Daylan savored that this was reality – he knew that this was no vision of the Fade, no visiting desire demon or something. He could feel the firm reality in front of him, recognized it for what it was. 

For once, the concerns of the Blight and the Landsmeet, they all melted away. All that he felt was Jowan, finally, FINALLY in his arms. And he was returning the kiss that Daylan thought they would never be able to have.

Finally, Daylan pulled back enough for them to breathe. “Jowan... Whatever else you’ve done, whatever your failings... You’re a good man, and you deserve happiness.”

“I... I want to believe that. I do. But... With everything that’s happened...”

“With everything that’s happened, we’ve found each other. And... Perhaps it’s time that things started going better for you.”

Jowan gave a strained smile. “I... I feel bad, though. Because... Lilly is in the Aeonar and we’re...”

That had been something that Daylan had been mulling over himself. He’d thought about something that could be done to help her. “We do have an in with the future king,” Daylan said. “We could always ask for him to intercede on her behalf.” The Chantry didn’t like to part with its prisoners, but Lilly had been a Chantry initiate, and not a mage herself. With Jowan legally considered pardoned by virtue of being conscripted into the Wardens (though, of course, there were a great many templars who wouldn’t bother themselves with legal definitions), her greatest crime was to simply have listened to him. She might be unable to resume her place as an initiate within the Chantry, but... Her being released wasn’t an impossibility. It could happen. It wouldn’t be the easiest thing, but... Alistair would fight for them. That alone meant something. They were mages. No one ever fought to help their interests.

Jowan still looked skeptical. “I don’t know. He’s only one man. The Chantry is...”

“...Is something to worry about after the Blight.” Stopping the Blight would come first, no matter what they spoke of here. 

That seemed to remind Jowan of the bigger and looming threat over the both of them, as well as the minor fact that no one seemed to have considered. “I know there’s a process for becoming a Grey Warden. One that... you haven’t done for me.”

“Yeah, we probably should avoid telling that to Eamon...” Daylan had no idea how the Joining ritual worked, and it was dangerous enough if you knew what you were doing. “For now, that’s not actually an option. For now...” He reached up and caressed Jowan’s cheek. “We should focus on what we can do. And that’s... make up for the time we’ve lost.”

Jowan leaned into Daylan’s touch, in agreement on that count, if nothing else. Daylan could see that Lilly’s fate still troubled him, however – whatever he felt for Daylan, he had loved her as well. He knew that she would never come back to him, considering his use of blood magic, no matter the justifications he could offer. 

They weren’t going to do more than literally sleep together tonight, Daylan could tell. But there were plenty other things that could hold them over until they both became more accustomed to the idea of being more than friends.

He smiled at Jowan. “I dreamed of this for some time, you know.”

That got a smile from him in return. “I hope I can live up to those dreams.”

***

Events in Denerim went fast. Queen Anora made a request for help (after meeting her, Daylan amended that to a demand for help, though, he supposed, she WAS a queen, which made her unused to asking for help...), one that led to a fight with Arl Rendon Howe, a fatal one for the Arl, and Daylan and Alistair being imprisoned in Fort Drakon. Jowan and Zevran had staged a rescue attempt, one that met Daylan and Alistair’s own in the middle, and somehow they managed to get through it with only a minimum of bloodshed.

While they’d rescued Anora, they’d also come across another Grey Warden, Riordan. He’d used the chaos to escape the estate, made his way to Arl Eamon’s. Daylan and Jowan both knew that soon, they’d have to have the Joining – Jowan was ready to face it, Daylan feared the worst. 

The Joining had to wait, however – first, they needed to deal with the problems in the alienage, which gave them further evidence of the crimes that Loghain had committed. Eamon had agreed that Jowan would act as a witness, evidence himself, considering Loghain had been the one to arrange his attempt on Eamon’s life, but an apostate blood mage was a questionable source even to those who argued in favor of mage freedoms. To the Landsmeet, his testimony wouldn’t necessarily help them. But it couldn’t hurt.

Finally, the nobles assembled. Loghain forced a duel on the floor of the throne room of Fort Drakon. As Alistair had proficiency with a sword (Daylan had learned of some ability by way of a spirit who’d wished for release in an elven ruin, but he held no illusions about his chances against the Hero of River Dane), he’d faced Loghain in single combat and won. There’d been no mercy in his eyes as he’d executed the man who’d left King Cailan to die, only to turn and blame the Wardens for his actions. 

After the Landsmeet confirmed that Alistair would be king (coming after a brief argument with Anora, who did not intend to relinquish her power so easily, forcing him to confine her to a tower for the time being – before they made their way back to Redcliffe to regroup before turning to face the horde, he’d have to make a more permanent solution to the problem, but that would be for later. Eamon had said that they should wait until after the Landsmeet had fully dispersed for that decision, which gave Daylan the impression that he expected Anora to have to be executed or permanently imprisoned in response. Despite her actions at the Landsmeet being questionable, Daylan had understood it when she expressed her surprise at Alistair imprisoning her – Eamon’s expectations had been what she’d expected for her own fate.

Daylan could understand that fear. He hoped Alistair would offer her some kind of mercy.

But that left them with just the last remaining bits of business to clean up before they faced the darkspawn, the Blight, and the archdemon. 

Which meant it was time for Jowan to undertake the Joining.

Daylan had set him on this course when he’d used the Right of Conscription to spare Jowan’s life. He knew that he couldn’t simply change his mind now. All the same... Now, he and Jowan had more to lose if the Joining didn’t take.

It didn’t help that Riordan seemed less... warm than Duncan had been. He’d decided to take Jowan to collect the needed ingredients, apparently having skepticism about Daylan’s ability to act as Alistair had on their journey into the Korcari Wilds. 

“I thought there were traditions and rituals involved,” Daylan groused to Alistair. The two were in Alistair’s room at Eamon’s estate, the Arl having already departed for Redcliffe. Daylan was only just keeping himself from pacing the room like a caged animal. He knew that Riordan had made a reasonable case for why he was too close to Jowan to be there for the whole ritual element of undertaking the Joining. The part of his mind that was approaching this rationally (which was a very small part, all things considered) understood it.

Of course, try explaining that to the rest of his mind.

Alistair, relieved at anything that drew his attention that was not his eventual coronation, offered him a pitying look. “There are always exceptions, especially in the middle of a Blight.” He looked at his friend, looking uncertain how to calm him down. “He’s strong. He stands a good chance of making it through the Joining.”

That assumed, of course, that the deciding factor of what let a person survive the Joining – drinking the darkspawn blood – was strength. Daveth’s death, though, kept replaying in Daylan’s mind. The way the thief had choked and gasped, struggling to breathe, let alone even try asking for help... It was all too easy to imagine Jowan in Daveth’s place.

“I just... We only just managed to come together... The idea of losing him so soon... How do Wardens handle it?” Daylan may not know much of the Wardens history, but he wasn’t naïve enough to assume that no Wardens ever had romantic relationships together over the centuries. Knowing that they could die at any moment... Mages were prone to quick flings, given the templar disapproval of them having anything that resembled happiness. That seemed to be similar between the two groups, though, from what Daylan had seen, while Riordan wanted to ensure that Jowan didn’t have additional assistance in acquiring the needed ingredients, as a method of proving himself, the Wardens didn’t seem to have any problems with relations between their members.

Alistair sighed, and Daylan knew it was because any answer he could give would only come from his secondhand awareness, the stories told to him by other Wardens, not his own. Which meant that his advice could only come from a distance. “I don’t know. For the most part, I don’t think people who are already together undertake the Joining very often. It... It isn’t exactly something you want to watch happen to someone you love. Even if both of you make it through.”

True enough there. He imagined that his own Joining, even though it had been successful, hadn’t been pretty to watch. Recalling Daveth’s death, and even the death of Jory, though it had been by Duncan’s blade, rather than the death drink from the Chalice, wasn’t pleasant.

“I just feel... helpless. All over again. Every time something happens for us, that things change, they seem to start with us being thrown to our lowest.” From the success of Daylan’s Harrowing being offset by learning what would happen to Jowan, to destroying Jowan’s phylactery only to have him reveal his blood magic and run, to finding him again, as a prisoner in Redcliffe’s dungeon and having poisoned the Arl... Now, having acknowledged how they felt for one another, Daylan faced the possibility of losing him, and due to the only method he’d had to save him before. It was maddening that this was the situation they’d been placed in, though he knew that they were the only ones to blame.

“Whatever happens...” Alistair started, placing a gentle hand on Daylan’s arm. “...You know that you did the best you could. If... if the worst happens, then... You told him how you feel, and he feels the same. I... I don’t know how comforting that is, but... It is more than he would have had if you’d just done nothing. If you hadn’t told him how you feel, or had let Arl Eamon execute him, or even let him be made Tranquil... You wouldn’t have had even what you have. I know it’s not much, but... It’s something.”

It was something at that. Daylan actually managed a smile at that. “It’s something. I suppose you’re right.”

Before Alistair could add anything to that, some cheeky remark about the king always being right, there was a knock at the door. A servant entered, escorting Riordan. Daylan instantly tensed – Riordan was alone, and he felt his blood chill.

And then Riordan smiled. “He is unconscious, but he lives. Jowan is truly a Grey Warden now.”

***

Everything surrounding the final battle in Denerim was a blur. The darkspawn, the chaos, the archdemon breathing fire... It was all a muddled mess of ‘these things happened’ in Daylan’s mind. 

One thing was clear, though – the night before, where Morrigan came to him, speaking of a ritual. He would sleep with her and conceive a child, who would then be the bearer of the soul of the Old God carried by the archdemon. She said it would preserve the life of any Warden attempting to slay the archdemon, preserve their soul from being annihilated in the final battle. Daylan hadn’t wanted to accept her ritual – it was something she’d learned from Flemeth’s grimoire. It was old magic, the kind that was questionable at best as to the origins or what it entailed. After everything, Daylan wasn’t ready to embrace magic of old without more awareness of it than just what Morrigan chose to offer.

And then she hit him where it hurt – if something happened to Riordan, it would fall to one of the three of the last remaining Grey Wardens in Ferelden to slay the archdemon and end the Blight. Meaning that one of them would have to give their lives. If it was Alistair, it would leave the nation without its king, rendering all that they had struggled long and hard to accomplish just to get him there moot. Which would mean it would fall on Daylan or Jowan. 

Framed like that, Daylan couldn’t help but agree. 

He’d come to like Morrigan, even trust her, to an extent. But this was Flemeth’s hand at work, why the Witch of the Wilds had sent her daughter with them in the first place. Whatever his feelings towards Morrigan, he had no such trust to turn towards Flemeth. He’d fought her in dragon form, after all, he wasn’t exactly pointed towards being inclined to offer trust to her. But he was willing to do it if it saved Jowan’s life. He’d told Jowan about it as soon as he could, and, with everything happening, the march back to Denerim to defeat the archdemon, they hadn’t really had the opportunity to speak of it.

“I feel like I should be angry,” Jowan said as they both recuperated in the remains of the Arl’s estate in Denerim. The building itself had made it through, though there were few rooms that had been untouched by the horde. But, by virtue of it still standing, that made it a good place for housing the wounded as they recovered.

Daylan immediately understood his meaning. “I know. I should have told you about it. I should have refused.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jowan said. “We were desperate. We... There was so much at stake, I... I don’t see a reason I wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Granted, it seems that every time I make a decision, especially ones like that, it just results in everything blowing up in my face, but... There were four Grey Wardens in the battle. And thousands of darkspawn. And an archdemon, breathing fire and crashing through towers. I... Honestly, even if for no other reason, I could see why you’d take Morrigan’s offer. If something had happened to the rest of us, if you, me, and Alistair had been killed by the archdemon... At least then, the archdemon would still be defeated. It wouldn’t come back in some other darkspawn.”

True enough, and if anyone ever questioned why he did so, Daylan would probably use that excuse as to why he’d trusted Morrigan enough to let her go through with it. “That wasn’t why I agreed, though.”

“I know.” Jowan reached out to caress Daylan’s cheek. “You did it for the same reason I would have. Because after everything we’ve been through, you didn’t want to risk losing me, or being taken from me.” He leaned in, kissing Daylan firmly. “I feel like I should be angry that you slept with Morrigan, but I know that it wasn’t about her.” He had to chuckle. “And, frankly, given everything we’ve been through over the past year, really... That seems like the least of things to deal with.”

“I do solemnly swear that I will not sleep with anyone other than you ever again,” Daylan said, his seriousness only half mocking. 

“I make the same vow,” Jowan said. “We didn’t exactly get the chance to properly enjoy our ‘last night before the world ends’ opportunity, did we?” What with all the marching towards Denerim, they had barely had a chance to sleep on the way from Redcliffe, let alone attempt anything more intimate. 

Daylan chuckled. “Considering the healers running around here, we’re hardly in a better position to do so now,” he said. There was a note in his voice, however – once the healers were no longer an issue, he wanted to find the time to correct things. 

“I look forward to it myself.”

They had challenges ahead of them – the issue of freeing Lilly from the Aeonar chief among them, but even beyond that, Daylan wondered what the Grey Wardens might demand of them. It hadn’t been an issue before, but now that they were able to be in communication with the Wardens of the rest of Thedas, there was a chance that they’d take issue with the decisions that he’d made, such as the ritual of Morrigan’s – if nothing else, he’d not asked how she’d done so. 

Even if he had, Daylan felt he’d have kept it to himself. Some magics were forgotten for a reason.

The Wardens might also believe in separating him from Jowan. If they tried, however, Daylan would tell them where to stick their griffon pauldrons. Whatever came next, they’d go forward together.

Daylan took Jowan’s hand, pulling him close. “I love you.”

“I love you, Daylan. And... I’m so lucky that you never gave up on me, even when it would have been easier, or probably better for you to do so.”

“Not having you in my life would never be better.”


End file.
